coming too.”
She rolled her eyes. “See? Twisted.”
Dante shook his head. “Dom, you can’t keep using cheesy lines on people’s mates and expect not to get shot one day. Seriously, you flirt with death far too often.”
Dominic’s brow furrowed. “Is it my fault that none of you have a sense of humor?”
The Beta exhaled in exasperation and then turned to Trey. “Back to Pierson—can’t you ask Rhett to do a background search on him?”
“I called him after I heard the message. Rhett didn’t have enough time to give me anything other than the basics.” Trey’s gaze sliced back to Dominic. “Emmet Pierson is a fifty-nine-year-old human attorney. He’s married to a human woman, Corrinne Pierson, and they have one child. Their daughter, Rosemary, is a twenty-eight-year-old shop assistant who’s recently divorced.”
The latter details tickled Dominic’s memory. “Oh.”
Trey’s eyes sharpened. “So you know the daughter?”
“Vaguely,” said Dominic.
“Meaning you slept with her?”
“Only once. I met her at a bar, went home with her, but I didn’t spend the night.” Dominic never spent the night at a woman’s house.
“When was this?”
Dominic blew out a breath. “About two weeks ago.”
“Any idea what he could want?”
“Not a clue.”
Madisyn braced her elbows on the bar. “Did your night with Rosemary go badly?”
Affronted, Dominic straightened. “My nights never end badly.”
She rolled her eyes again. “I’m not implying that she didn’t thoroughly enjoy herself. I mean, was she upset that you didn’t stay the night or something?”
Dominic thought about it for a moment. “I didn’t get that impression from her.”
Dante looked at Trey. “How did Emmet sound? Pissed? Upset?”
“Perfectly civil,” said Trey. “There was no undercurrent of anger. I’ll call him tomorrow morning and arrange a meeting. The sooner we find out what this is all about, the better.”
A curvy blonde appeared and set a tray of empty glasses on the bar. “Hey, guys.”
Dominic smiled at the waitress. “Charlene. Looking pretty as always.” The fox shifter had been a friend of his for years, and he’d helped her get the job here.
“I do, don’t I?” She tilted her head. “What brings you here tonight? You don’t come often.”
“I’m here on bodyguard duty.” He gestured at the bunch of females from his pack who were breaking out all kinds of moves on the dance floor. They paused as the DJ made an announcement over the speaker, and then the whole crowd was cheering.
Perfect, soulful notes danced through the air, snaring Dominic’s total attention. Damn, nothing about that voice would bring a person peace. No, it would bring thoughts of satin sheets and soft skin. That voice was pure sex. Raw, rich, and scratchy with a suppressed power.
He glanced at the stage, seeking the source of the sound. No lie, his heart jumped when he found it. With her hauntingly beautiful blue eyes, full red mouth, olive complexion, and the riot of glossy corkscrew curls that were such a deep brown they were almost black, the female made him think of a painting he’d once seen of a gypsy fortune-teller. Her dark eyeliner and heavy eyeshadow only made her look that much more mysterious, exotic, and elusive.
Soft and supple with legs up to her shoulders, she moved with a sensual, catlike grace as she glided across the stage like a wisp of air. She wasn’t his type. Too thin. Too fine boned. Almost fragile looking. But he had to admit there was something very bewitching about her. And when she sang . . . fuck, those dark, velvety, breathy vocals seemed to sink into his bones and thicken his blood.
And now he was rock hard.
“Who’s that?” he asked Charlene.
The fox’s smile faltered. “Her name is Mila Devereaux.”
“Devereaux?” He knew that name. He looked at Madisyn. “Is she part of Vinnie’s pride?” At Madisyn’s nod, he pursed his lips. Hmm. That meant Mila was likely a pallas cat. Interesting.
Most would have been put off by that. Cute, cranky, and crazy, pallas cat shifters had quite a reputation. Their inner felines looked like overstuffed plush toys. All you wanted to do was pick them up and give them a cuddle. That would be a bad move—especially since they were highly antisocial and somewhat unstable. When they attacked, they became a demented creature straight out of the bowels of hell.
One thing that could be said for them was that they didn’t start trouble. But they would always end it, and that ending was never good for their foe. Those snuggly little suckers would bite off your hand and eat it while looking you dead